


Sleep To Dream

by blackbird



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-08-08
Updated: 2004-08-08
Packaged: 2017-10-16 03:53:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/168129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackbird/pseuds/blackbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Faith doesn't just dream in color, she dreams in 3D Technicolor and surround sound.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep To Dream

She could feel sunlight pressing against her eyelids and she burrowed back under the covers, not quite ready to give up the comfort of sleep. A callused hand slid over her stomach, tugging her into the curve of bare skin. Warm breath tickled her spine when he exhaled, his face buried in her hair.

"You know, we will have to get up sometime," he said, his voice still thick with sleep.

"No, we don't. We didn't get back here 'til dawn and I was up for another hour scrubbing demon guts out of my hair. We'll go in when we're damn good and ready," Faith grumbled from underneath the blanket. As if on cue, the phone began to ring. Wesley went to reach for it, but she pulled him back toward her. "Let the machine get it."

After the greeting, a sickeningly cheerful voice came through the speaker. "I'm sure I don't want to know what you two are doing, since I'm pretty sure I'd be scarred for life if I did. Anyways, you needed to be in the office, like, an hour ago. Angel's not up yet, but you know he gets if we're not all here for roll call. In conclusion, get decent and get down here." With a click, Cordelia's voice was cut off. Behind her, Wesley was trying to suppress a chuckle.

"Ugh," Faith said, "remind me never to go near her when I'm hung over. There could be some severe damage done." She rolled onto her back, wincing at the pain that shot through her side. Carefully, he lifted her tank top and looked at the wound.

"Almost gone, just a bruise really," he said, his fingers trailing over the greenish-purple mark on her skin.

"Gotta love that Slayer healing. Still feels like I got smacked in the side by an ugly-ass demon with a two by four though," she said sardonically.

"Yes, but don't you think decapitating it and cutting off its arms and legs was overkill?" he asked with a laugh. She narrowed her eyes at him and in a flash she was straddling him, his wrists pinned over his head.

"No, I don't. He ruined my favorite black tank top. You know how I hate that," she said, leaning down over him. Her hair fell like a curtain around their faces as she let her lips brush his. "You know, I'm feeling a lot better this morning," she said, sliding her hips back and forth against him. His arms were twisting in her hands and suddenly she felt the thick, raised scar on the inside of his left wrist. Broken glass and blood flashed through her brain and she pulled away, releasing her hold on him.

"Faith," he said softly, "don't."

She swallowed hard. "I'm...I just...there was blood and God, Wes, I'm so sor..." He sat up and yanked her face to his, cutting her off. Catching her lower lip between his teeth, he kissed her hard, and she squeezed her eyes shut, forcing the painful images away. She felt his other hand sliding up her leg, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Tendrils of heat curled over her and she sat up again, pulling her tank top over her head. His hand followed the line of her body up, carefully avoiding the long scar across her stomach. With a feather light touch, he grazed her nipple with the palm of his hand and she let out a tiny moan.

Using his legs as leverage, he flipped them over and pressed her into the mattress. She grabbed hold of the headboard as he kissed her collarbone and into the hollow of her throat. Automatically, her hips surged up to meet his as he ran his tongue over her sensitive nipple. He teased her mercilessly with his lips and teeth and she moaned his name wantonly when he moved down her body. She heard the clack of metal against his teeth as he laid an open-mouthed kiss on her navel and she felt his fingers slide her underwear down. Hot breath traveled over her inner thighs and she shivered with anticipation. Deliberately slow, he flicked his tongue back and forth over her clit, letting the pleasure climb inch by inch up her spine. Suddenly, he slid a finger inside her, working in counterpoint to his mouth and she clutched at the sheets, tearing the cotton as her orgasm ripped through her. When she looked down at him, she had to grin at his self-satisfied smile.

Wesley crawled back up toward her and she caught his chin in her hand, licking the underside of his jaw. She tasted skin and sweat and his stubble was rough against her tongue. A low growl came from her throat and she felt him smile again. Flipping them again, she was thankful that her added stamina gave her a bit of an edge. She drew his hands up again, careful not to touch his wrist and wrapped his fingers around the slats in the headboard. Shooting him a feral grin, she slithered down his body, ghosting her fingers over his ribs and hips. Her hair fell over her face as she took him in her mouth. He began to move his hips, but she held him down gently, wanting to set the pace. Lazily, she moved up and down on him, lightly scraping her teeth over his sensitive skin and humming softly. Above her, he groaned and shifted restlessly.

"Faith," he said jaggedly. She released him slowly, and she knew he was watching as his cock slid through her lips. With a wicked smile, her tongue darted out and licked the tip one more time before answering him.

"Yes?" she said, trying to sound demure. By the look in his eyes, it wasn't working.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you it's not nice to tease?" he asked as she positioned herself over him.

"What do you think?" she replied as she lowered herself slowly, letting him in gradually. His eyes were closed, his head thrown back against the pillows and she had to smile at the look that was half pleasure, half pain on his face. Suddenly, she felt him thrust up and grasp her hips.

"No fair distracting me that way," she said, dropping down so they were face to face. She was pushing back against him now and he was meeting her thrust for thrust. With a slight swivel, she changed the rhythm and he moaned loudly. Finally opening his eyes, she saw a sinful sparkle in them.

"It's pay back for the humming. You know what that does to me," he said. She kissed him again, feeling the pressure building in her body. He was close too, she could feel it. Throwing herself back up, she started riding him, hard. His hand snaked between her legs, his calloused fingers working her clit. She could feel her body tightening and suddenly she came, stars exploding behind her eyes. Underneath her, Wesley tensed and shuddered, his hands gripping her hips so hard that, if she were anyone else, she'd have bruises. She collapsed bonelessly on top of him and nipped lightly at his lips. He was still catching his breath when she heard the machine click on again.

"Okay, seriously. Enough is enough. It's time to work. Slay girl can molest you later," Cordelia said, sounding supremely irritated.

***

The motorcycle roared up to the office less than an hour later. Faith climbed off the back and took off her helmet, shaking her hair out. The black paint was flaking and she could see the patches of pink underneath. She still couldn't believe he bought her a pink helmet.

Cordelia was on the phone when they came in, but through hand gestures and the ensuing translations told her Angel was waiting for her in his office. Wesley had already wandering into the other room, book in hand, so she dropped her jacket on the chair and knocked on the door.

"Come in," Angel answered from the other side. She pushed the door open and blinked at the weird glow of the florescent light. He was sitting at his desk, the plexiglass panel in front of him.

"You were looking for me, boss?" she asked. He nodded and gestured for her to have a seat in the chair across from him. Immediately, she picked up the receiver.

"How was the Gorlag demon?" he questioned, his tone brusque. She was a little surprised, but tried not to show it.

"Eh, your usual hit 'em, shoot 'em, set 'em on fire and scatter the ashes kind of deal. He did get a couple of good licks in. And that green sludge those things call blood? Not so good on the hair, you know?" she said with a shrug. On the other side, Angel was taking meticulous notes. He was acting really weird today and she couldn't quite figure out why.

"So," she said nonchalantly, "what's with you today? The cheerleader spike your liquid breakfast with a laxative or something?" He looked up suddenly and she felt a tiny wave of fear pass over her. Something was definitely up.

"Where were you and Wesley this morning?" he asked evenly.

"We were at his place, why?" she said, trying not to get defensive.

He leaned back in his chair a bit, the phone loose against his ear. "I'm not really sure the two of you should be involved. It's bad for business."

"Excuse me? Since when did what Wes and I do off the clock become your business?" she said angrily.

"You tried to kill him. You tied him to a chair and tortured him. You sliced open his arm and he almost bled to death," he said coldly. She could hear her heartbeat thundering in her ears and she had to curb the urge to put her fist through the glass that was separating them.

"He forgave me. I was sick. He knew I didn't mean it," she ground out. Across from her, Angel smiled but it looked a lot more like Angelus from where she was sitting.

"No, he didn't. He'll never forgive you. Just like Buffy won't and Giles won't and everyone else who you've betrayed. You're worthless, Faith. You always have been. He's going to use you and fuck you until someone better comes along," Angel said, his voice laced with venom.

"Shut up," she screamed. There was buzzing coming from somewhere, long and insistent. "Stop it, Angel."

To her horror, he started laughing. "You're worthless, Faith. You're worthless. No one wants you. No one ever did and no one ever will."

The buzz was louder now, so loud she could barely think. All she could hear was his voice echoing in her ears. Worthless, she was worthless...

***

She sat up with a start. The sheets were twisted around her legs and she was covered in cold sweat. Her heart was still pounding and she had to take a deep breath.

"Let's go, Wilkins, you're late," said the guard on the other side of the bars.

With a shake of her head, she hopped down off the bunk. Shrugging off her t-shirt, she pulled on her gray jumpsuit and tugged her hair back off her face.

"Fucking Slayer dreams," she muttered as she joined her cellmate for the walk down to breakfast.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Wes/Faith Ficathon](http://www.livejournal.com/users/lovesbitca/279060.html) and moosesal, who wanted Wesley's motorcycle and Angel. Thanks to fabu for the beta. Spoilers for Seasons 1 and 2 of Angel.


End file.
